


Thy Kingdom Come

by medelrey



Series: Kingdom [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7499193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medelrey/pseuds/medelrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Face Straight Outta Magazine; Sansa finally poses for Kingdom, attending the Spring Gala with Jon as her career takes off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thy Kingdom Come

**Author's Note:**

> Just straight fun. My friends made a really cool magazine cover to go with the story, too, over on my tumblr! The song Sansa dances to is Halsey's cover of I Walk the Line.

Daenerys orders that Sansa will be placed on the cover of Kingdom, with a special edition video to be put on the website to promote the countdown to the Spring Gala. She’s surprised and terrified all at one time.

She feels _almost_ feels like a model as they arrive to the rented house, though it's much more like a castle on the sea.  _Kingdom's_  team places Sansa in a beautiful black slip made out of the finest silk in Westeros. It contrasts sharply with her beautiful alabaster skin and bold her blue eyes. They drape her neck in a heavy diamond choker, carving out her collarbones with their shine. 

 "I'm nervous," Sansa mumbles to Jon as the stylist places her feet into stiletto sandals, jet black like her slip with a strap across her toe and another just above her ankle. 

 "Don't be," Jon says, pulling the pins out of his girlfriend's red hair that’s been curled into waves that cascade across her back and shoulders. "You're a natural and I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you." 

 Jon's requested that her makeup remain fairly natural; only a little eyeshadow and blush on her cheeks. "Don't touch her lips," he instructs, "She looks perfect." 

 "What if I'm awkward?"

 "You won't be," Jon assures, caressing her cheek and handing her a robe to put over the slip. He leans down to her ear. "Bring that outfit back to mine," he whispers. 

 "You'll ruin it."

 "That's the point, isn't it?"

 Sansa laughs, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 

 "Are you ready?" 

 "I think so." 

 Sansa stuns everyone into silence as she walks into the large common area. "Lie on the settee,” Jon instructs, going full into director mode. "Put one foot on the floor and when the music starts, just do what feels natural, alright?" 

 "Okay," she nods, waiting for her cue. 

 "Action!" Jon calls, starting the shot focusing on the diamonds around her neck. 

_"...I keep a close watch on this heart of mine..."_

 Sansa follows Jon's lead, gazing at the camera as she trails a hand across her chest, drawing a circle around her heart. Jon follows her movements closely, afraid to miss anything. Her fingernails are red and gorgeous against her skin. 

_"...I keep my eyes wide open all the time..."_

 Jon zooms to Sansa's pretty face and she smiles softly as he does. "Beautiful," he mouths, motioning for her to sit up on the couch. Sansa gains confidence, running her fingers through her hair and casting her eyes downward, before she glances up, tracing her thumb across her bottom lip.

  _"I keep the ends out for the ties that bind..."_

Sansa smiles behind her thumb, letting her teeth barely touch her skin. It’s an amazing shot; her eyes playful, but the rest of her face model serious. She keeps her gaze on the camera as she runs her fingers down her legs, l, glancing coyly at Jon before she fingers the clasps at her ankles. 

 _"...Because you're mine, I walk the line..."_  

Sansa feels the beat of the song pulse through her body before she props her feet up on the table, slipping off her shoes like its the most natural thing in the world. She rests her head on her knees as she smiles, flexing her toes. "Cut!" Jon calls, handing his camera off to his assistant. "You're so perfect. Everything's been breathtaking, Sansa, honest." 

 She blushes, tucking her face behind her hands. "You have to say that. But what do you want me to do now?"

 

Jon shakes his head. "I want to film you walking down the hallway to the bedroom. Carry your shoes in one hand, but move slowly; play with the camera. Make it yours." 

 The team position Sansa at the beginning of the large hall, Jon slipping one of her shoulders out of the robe. "Is that alright?" 

 "Of course," she says. 

 "Then let's shoot." 

_"...I find it very very easy to be true..."_

Sansa walks slowly down the hall, keeping one hand on the wall while her shoes dangle from the other. She glances over her shoulder back toward the camera before she fluffs her hair, twirling on her tiptoes. She loves the way Jon grins at her, growing in confidence as she lets the other shoulder of her robe fall away from her body. 

_"...I find myself alone when each day is through..."_

Sansa fake pouts, dropping her shoes and reaching toward the camera before she tiptoes backward until her back presses against the wall. Jon follows her closely, focusing on the exposed expanse of her creamy skin. She's so natural, like she absolutely belongs in front of his camera; she takes his breath away with every step she takes. 

_"...Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you..."_

Sansa explores the rest of the hall, untying the knot of her robe but holding it together at her waist. She keeps peaking over her shoulder until she reaches the doorway to the bedroom. She casts her blue eyes to the floor as she lets the robe fall open. 

"Drop it," Jon whispers.

 Sansa giggles as the silk falls around her ankles when Jon stops the shot. "You're doing so well, Sans. You have no idea how beautiful you are." 

 Sansa's cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink. "You know nothing, Jon Snow." 

 Jon breaks protocol, taking a second to kiss Sansa on her mouth. "Now I want you on the bed, on your knees. You can be playful or serious; whatever feels right to you." 

 Sansa nods, waiting for the music to start once more. "Third time's a charm," Jon says, pressing record on his camera. She places one foot on the bed, running her hand along the back of her neck before she climbs atop the mattress.  

_"...You've got a way to keep me on your side..."_

 Sansa perches herself at the foot of the bed, running her hands across her chest and arms, transforming back to the sly and coquettish girl she was when they started filming. There's something incredibly sexy in the way she moves so fluidly, like she's made of the silk that covers her skin. Jon can't stop watching her as she falls back on the mattress, entranced at the way her hair flies across the pillows.  

_"...You give me cause for love that I can't hide..."_

 She plays with her hair, crossing her legs in the air. Jon moves the camera to Sansa's side, focusing once more on the diamond necklace and then her eyes. They're too beautiful not to catch. Sansa grabs the hem of her slip, edging it further up her thighs. When she looks at the camera, it's like she's looking straight at Jon. It's like they're the only two in the room. 

_"...For you I know I'd even try to turn the tide..."_

 Sansa flops onto her stomach, pressing her cheek to the pillow. She keeps her ankles crossed in the air, smirking as she lifts herself onto her elbows. Jon catches a beautiful angle of her hair covering half her face; her pretty mouth pouted as she tilts her head to the side. 

_"...Because you're mine, I walk the line..."_

Sansa gracefully lies back on the bed, pressing her the side face to the center of the overstuffed pillow. She stares deep into the camera as she tiptoes her fingers across the satin sheets in time with the song. Jon zooms the shot in as she props her chin on her hands. "Because you're mine, I walk the line," she mouths, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

 Jon smiles encouragingly as Sansa sings the lyrics once again, this time laughing as she does. There's never been a more beautiful sight. Jon cuts the shot just as the song ends. "Gods, you are beautiful," he mumbles, "I almost wish I didn't have to share this with the world." 

 Sansa grins, sitting up to kiss Jon square on the mouth. "How much longer 'til you can take me home?"

 "You've an interview in about twenty minutes, then you're all mine." 

***

 Sansa feels much more like herself when she's allowed back into her white high-top trainers and black skinny jeans with a rip in the knee. She fingers the hole in the hem of her Winterfell Wolves jersey as she sits on the couch, next to one of the most famous journalists in all of the Seven Kingdoms, Ellaria Sand. She's Dornish, with beautiful olive skin and dark hair. She smiles widely, but Sansa can’t help but feel a little intimidated.

 "Let's begin by saying you're no stranger to talent. Your brother Robb is the captain of the Winterfell Wolves and plays for Westeros national team. Your sister Arya is well on her way to being one of the youngest fencers in the Westerosi games. And your brother Bran is set for university at only sixteen. Most people would say a modeling career would be the next step for you. Does that seem natural? Is that what you set out for?" 

Sansa smiles. "My siblings are all great at what they do. I'm very proud of them. But I don't necessarily wish to be known for just my Stark name. I am my own person. To answer your question, no; I never expected any of this. I guess you could say it was by accident." 

Ellaria laughs. "How did you manage to land the cover of  _Kingdom_  by accident?"

"My boyfriend is contracted with them. He used to take shots of me for fun; it was never serious. He submitted some of them on a whim and that's how we are where we are now," Sansa smiles. 

"Ah, yes! How could I forget Jon Snow? He's called you his muse several times now. Every time anyone talks to him, you're the only thing he raves about! What do you think about that?"

"He tells me that all the time. He's very sweet and I admire him greatly. Jon makes my job very easy, which is why I've only worked with him or had him on set, up until now. I'm not ready to branch out on my own yet." 

"That's a big statement, Sansa. Are you saying you won't work with other photographers?" 

"Of course not! But I'm new to this and I haven't any idea of what I'm doing. Jon makes sure I feel safe and encouraged." 

"That's very sweet. Your relationship sounds quite serious. Should we expect a betrothal announcement soon?" 

Sansa blushes the same shade of red of her hair. "I don't think so. We've been together for a while now, and I love him very much, but we're both young. I've got a year of uni left and I'm trying to find myself and what's to come in the future. I know I want to find that with him, but we're not quite ready to make that sort of commitment." 

"I believe you're the most mature twenty year old I've ever met. But I must ask, what does your brother Robb think of all this? Jon is his best friend, right?" 

"He was shocked, I think. Mostly because we didn't tell him for almost a year. Jon's just like another member of the family and so for Robb to have just not known was strange for him. But it's really water under the bridge. Robb has other things to focus on right now." 

"Anything you want to share?"

"No, I think Robb can handle himself," she smiles, holding back the news of Robb's elopement and pregnant wife. 

"Fair enough," the interviewer smiles, "Just a few more things; do you know who you're wearing to the Spring Gala? It's quite the theme this year and we're all dying to know what the 'it girl' will be wearing."

"I'm afraid I'm sworn to secrecy on that but I'll say it's a beautiful gown." 

"Will Jon coordinate?"

"I think so, but haven't thought to ask him." 

"Whatever you wear, I'm sure it will be lovely. Have had the opportunity to meet Daenerys yet?"

"No, I haven't had the chance but I'm looking forward to it. She's been very, very kind to me." 

Ellaria smiles. "I'm sure you have a long career ahead of you. Is that what you want? Can you see doing this for a long time?”

"I try not to look past today. I might be popular in this moment, but that could all change in a second. If this turns into anything, I'll be thrilled, of course, but you never know what tomorrow will bring." 

"You're very wise, Sansa. The Gala is in a month and your cover issue of Kingdom hits stands next week. Are you more nervous or excited?" 

"Excited, I think. I hope that people will like the photos and like me. But I can't control that either, and that gives me some anxiety."

"Wait until they see the video you shot for our website. They'll be eating out of the palm of your hand." 

Sansa laughs, shaking her head as Ellaria clicks off her recorder. 

"You're a natural. People will love you." She air kisses Sansa's cheek, gathering her things before she stops Jon in the hall. "If I were you, I'd get some shots of her just like that. She's beautiful all made up, but she's something else in her own element."  

***

Jenye Poole zips up Sansa's gown; a beautiful, black heavy thing by famed designer Olenna Tyrell. Sansa's honored that she's been chosen to be a part of the House Tyrell fashion team; she only wishes the dress wasn't so extravagant.

It's sheer all the way down the front, from her collarbones to her feet. Beautiful embroidered vines accent the revealing parts of her dress and Sansa guesses the gown was made exactly for this gala; when looked upon from far away, it seems as though small flames lick up her body. She certainly looks like fire in it; with bright red shoes that look like dragon’s wings across the top of her feet. Sansa brushes her hands over the peplum at her hips, gazing into the mirror. 

The dress is decorated with large, dark red flowers, sewn by hand while she wore the dress to have them perfectly placed. Her underwear is black to match her dress and she looks stunning; there's no other way to describe her. "Do I look alright? Do you think this is too much?" 

"Sansa, Daenerys literally had the Sept of Baelor half-rebuilt to have her gala in it, rubble and all. How could you think you're too much?" 

Sansa laughs, inspecting her dark smoky eye makeup. Her hair is done half up, teased on top of her head while the rest of it falls across her back in red waves like flames. "I wish it was half as easy to dress like Robb. He and his teammates are getting away with a dark red suit and their jerseys!" 

"And they'll look ridiculous while you look beautiful." 

Sansa sighs as she looks over her dress once more in the full-length mirror. “I should get going,” Jeyne says, hugging her friend. “Good luck tonight. You’ll be perfect.”

Sansa walks her to the door just as Jon comes down the hall. She's stunned as she sees him. He looks gorgeous in an almost burgundy shirt and black velvet suit coat with small golden detailing. His long hair is tied back into a bun and Sansa's overcome with how much she wants his suit off him. "Wow," she says, running her eyes up and down his body. "You look incredible."

“Mmm,” he says, taking her hands and spinning her around. “So do you.” He kisses her cheek, grinning as he leans in close to her ear. “I’d have you out of that dress in two seconds flat, but our car is here." 

Cameras flash in their faces as they enter the large black SUV sent to pick them up. Jon helps Sansa into the car, closing the door behind them. When she settles into her seat, he notices the large slit cut almost up to her hip. He immediately places his hand just above her knee, fingers skimming the inside of her thigh. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

Sansa squirms as his fingers inch closer up her leg, grinning over at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m serious,” Jon insists, leaning across the seat to kiss her neck. “I’d have you in the back of his car, if I could.”

Sansa blushes, squeezing his wrist. “I’d let you if there was a partition.” Jon curses himself for not ordering the towncar.

*** 

Sansa meets so many people she loses count. Daenerys is every bit as intimidating as she thought she'd be and Margaery Tyrell is even more beautiful than she expected. The latter is dressed in a signature Tyrell gown, bright red in color. The top is covered in bright red roses stitched into a sheer fabric with a high neckline. The skirt flares into a circle, fanning around her. She looks absolutely exquisite and it's like she glides on air when she walks.

"I've so looked forward to meeting you, Sansa," Margaery smiles, air-kissing Sansa's flushed cheeks. "I want us to be friends. Good friends."

"Yes," Sansa agrees, "I'm sure we will be." 

"Look at how beautiful you are. You were made for my grandmother's gowns." 

"Thank you," she replies. "I am honored to wear it."  

The two exchange pleasantries before the older girl excuses herself, "We must shoot together one day. Imagine what we could do! But I must go find my husband..." 

Sansa nods, giving Margaery a grin before she disappears into the crowd. She jumps as she feels an arm wrap around her waist. "Do you think this sept is still holy?"

Sansa shakes her head as she realizes it's only Jon. "Considering we're indulging in all the things the ancient faith preached against, I'd guess no."

"Good," Jon says, grabbing Sansa's hand and heading toward the exit of the ballroom.  

"Wait, why?" 

"Because I'm going to fuck you in it." 

Sansa feels her heart skip a beat and heat pool between her legs. She's wanted him since he first knocked on the hotel door and his words in the car didn't help. "There are thousands of people here..." 

"And there are crypts where no one is."

"Okay," Sansa laughs, holding tight to his hand as he hauls her through the crowd. "How do you know that?"

"I helped pick the location." Jon smiles at her like he's been planning this for months. 

"Did you know you were going to do this?" 

"Maybe," he smirks, glancing around as they enter an empty hallway. He kisses her hard on the mouth, smearing her lipstick. Sansa doesn't care, though, she returns it with just as much passion, wrapping her arms around neck and pulling him close. "You've been driving me mad all night." 

Sansa smiles and fists her hands into his hair as he kisses her neck, running the edge of his teeth along her jugular and scraping her skin. She can feel the hickey forming on her neck but she doesn't care; she aches for it, craves it. Let people see how Jon marked her as his own. 

He runs his hand along her outer leg, fingering the incredibly thin tulle fabric until he can feel her thigh, gripping it and pulling it over his hip. "If you didn't look so good in this dress, I'd rip it."

Sansa pushes her hips forward, leaning to kiss him again, this time biting his bottom lip. His groans are swallowed by her mouth, but still echo along the stone walls of the sept. He slides his hands up the backs of her thighs until he can her ass hard. "I don't even think I can make it to the crypts. I can't stop thinking about how it feels to be buried inside you."

She moans, tugging on Jon's hair. Sansa feels Jon's fingers move to her hips, thumbs slowly stroking downward until he presses over her clit with light strokes. "Gods, you're so wet already. Do you think I could make you come just like this? Could I make you come right here, where anyone could see us?" 

Her hips buck against his fingers as he moves them in a circle, swirling around the place that makes her head spin. "Wouldn't you like that, my sweet girl?" He pauses, slipping her panties to the side until he can feel her wet and slick against his fingertips. 

Jon's talented with everything he does; his mouth, his fingers. He knows exactly what to do to have Sansa crying out his name in two seconds flat. He kisses her to quiet the sounds she makes. She pushes her hips down as he continues to circle his thumb over her clit. "Jon," she mumbles, "Please fuck me."

Sansa runs her hands down Jon's chest, reaching for the button of his dress slacks. She can feel him hard beneath the fabric, aching for her. He hisses as she frees his cock from his boxers, wrapping her hand around him and squeezing. "Right here. Right now," she whispers, biting his earlobe. 

Jon bunches her dress around her waist, hitching her leg higher around his hips. "Hold your skirt for me." 

She does as he asks, her head lulling back against the wall as he traces the head of his cock up and down her slit. She's absolutely dripping and he slides into her so easily. Sansa moans loudly as he fills her; stretching her in the best way. Jon rests his head in the crook of her neck as he pulls almost all the way out before he thrusts back in. 

They moan in unison as Jon pulls her down on his cock, one hand gripping her thigh and the other wrapping around the back of her neck. He fucks her fast but shallow, too desperate to be deep inside her. Sansa wraps around him like a glove, pulling him in. She holds his face to her neck as he mouths at her skin again, leaving more pretty red patterns. 

Sansa digs her heel into the small of Jon's back, grinding her hips down. "Gods, you feel so good, Sansa. I could fuck you for hours." She searches for purchase in his hair as he kisses her hard, nibbling at her lip until it's dark red. 

"I want you to fuck me from behind." Sansa says, pushing against Jon's chest until he slips out of her. He groans at the loss of contact, spinning her around and pressing her front against the wall. 

He slips inside her once more, burying himself until his hips press against her ass. Jon grips her hips as he pounds into her, pressing his fingertips into her skin so hard he's sure he'll leave marks behind.  

Sansa's orgasm catches her by surprise, pulsing through her whole body as she bites down on her fist to keep from screaming out. Her cunt is heaven as she quakes around him, her toes curling in her heels. "Fuck," she whines, nails scraping against the stone as she loses all control. 

"You're unreal," Jon grunts, pulling out and spilling across her ass. Part of him feels bad he's ruined her underwear but the other part feels too satisfied to care. They get themselves back together with awkward fumbling hands, totally sated with stupid grins on their faces.  

He kisses her gently, brushing her hair back into place as best he can. "You have to come to the Spring Gala every year."

"If I get that treatment every time, then I will," she smiles. 

"My beautiful girl," Jon whispers, kissing her cheek. "So perfect." 

And maybe Sansa's meant for this lifestyle after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr and check out Sansa's cover of Kingdom on my tumblr @ mattysigh.tumblr.com (seriously it looks D O P E). Sansa's and Margaery's dresses are also on my page!


End file.
